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Underdog (Night Visions Songfic)
Song ten of Night Visions. Early morning take me over Father, father, father Take me to the top “Cloverpaw!” snapped a harsh voice. Cloverpaw groaned and rolled over. Anything except another day with Fernfall! “Cloverpaw!” the voice snapped again. “Are you indirectly asking for a moon caring for elders?” Upon hearing this, Cloverpaw opened one eye. His dark blue one. The other one was light blue. “No,” he replied simply. Fernfall smiled evilly and picked up a stick and pointed it at Cloverpaw. “The person on the end of this stick is stupid.” “Oh really?” Cloverpaw said cheekily. “Which end? Yours? How surprising.” Fernfall clenched her teeth and her nostrils flared. “Shut up, get up, and come up to the cliff where the other apprentices are waiting.” Early morning wake me up Father, father, father This is not enough Cloverpaw rolled to the side just as Pinepaw landed on the spot where he was a second ago. Pinepaw hissed at him. “You can’t fight, kittpyet!” “Oh really?” challenged Cloverpaw. “I have a clan cat father and mother. You’re the kittypet for being dumb.” Pinepaw screeched in annoyance. Cloverpaw took advantage of the moment and knocked him to the ground. One paw on the throat, another on the belly. Pinepaw was choking now. Cloverpaw smiled to himself. The warriors were probably thinking that he himself was choking, and took no notice. “Don’t kill,” whispered a voice in his head. “Earn trust.” “Yes, father,” whispered Cloverpaw back. “Whatever you say to overcome this torture called apprenticeship.” ~''' '''Hey, that sounds like my luck I get the short end of it Oh I love to be I love to be the underdog, Hey! All eyes were on Cloverpaw. “So you say you almost… choked… Pinepaw?” drawled Fernfall for the tenth time that afternoon. Cloverpaw bared his teeth. “Yes.” “Well… we have to decide on a punishment,” meowed Fernfall softly. Cloverpaw leapt up to protest. “But Grasspaw choked me — almost killed me! — the other day and she was praised!” yelled Cloverpaw angrily. Fernfall smiled, but not in a good way. “Well, Cloverpaw, Grasspaw has… better… origins. Now, your punishment: no food until the full moon. Luckily its only tomorrow night,” sneered Fernfall. Cloverpaw stomped out of the camp, ignoring the jeers from the cats behind him. “Talk about discrimination,” he huffed. Hey, that sounds like my luck I get the short end of it Oh I love to be I love to be the underdog, Hey! Mossleap scratched the ground with sharp claws. “Be the underdog,” he growled at Cloverpaw. “I can’t believe they treat you like that!” Cloverpaw watched a bug crawl across a stick. “I hate them,” he snarled. “They treat me worse than mouse bile.” His stomach growled as he mentioned the word ‘mouse’. Cloverpaw had never gone so long without eating. As if reading his mind, Mossleap tossed a plump mouse at him. “Here,” he chirped. “Nobody will know.” “Thanks!” Cloverpaw yowled gratefully to his father. In his dreams with Mossleap, sometimes Birdnose, he was cared for and loved. But in Meadowclan, life was the exact opposite. ~''' '''Early evening settle down Father, father, father Who am I to blame? “Run faster!” snarled Fernfall the next day. “I’m running!” complained Cloverpaw. Suddenly he felt stronger. Is Mossleap helping me again? ''He seemed to be running with the speed of two cats combined. Fernfall blinked in surprise. Then she growled. “I guess you’re not as slow as I thought you were, underdog.” Cloverpaw smiled. He was earning trust at last. '''Early evening hush me over' Father, father, father Are we just the same? “You’ll be as good as me,” Mossleap purred in that night’s dream. “You were trained by rogues though,” Cloverpaw pointed out. “These cats treat you like rogues,” Mossleap growled. “I can’t believe I helped them after the rogue group destroyed them! Now Featherclan has been destroyed too, and no-on’s bothering to lift a claw about it!” “Father, calm down,” urged Cloverpaw. “When I’m a warrior, I’m going to force everyone to rebuild our old clan.” Mossleap purred. “That’s my son." ~''' '''Hey, that sounds like my luck I get the short end of it Oh I love to be I love to be the underdog, Hey! “Hey, underdog!” called Browngorse from the other side of the camp. Cloverpaw liked Browngorse; he was one of the nicer cats in Meadowclan, along with frail old Mothstar. “Sup, Browngorse!” Cloverpaw yelled back. “Up for hunting?” Browngorse trotted over. “How about an assessment? Fernfall has a load of thorns in her pelt, so she’s been in the medicine den all day. She can’t argue against the deputy!” And they both laughed. Hey, that sounds like my luck I get the short end of it Oh I love to be I love to be the underdog, Hey! Thankfully, the day was sunny, and the forest was brimming with prey. By sunset, Cloverpaw had caught two mice, a vole, a sparrow, and a lark. “Not the underdog after all,” Browngorse purred. “Even Pinepaw can’t catch as much, and he’s my apprentice!” “So I can be a warrior?” Cloverpaw asked hopefully. A smile spread across Browngorse’s face. “What do you think? The right age, great abilities, about time too. Come on, lets speak to Mothstar!” Cloverpaw yowled in happiness all the way back to camp. ~''' '''Living the low life Low life low life Living the low life Low life low life Living the low life “Are you sure about this, Browngorse? He seems awfully inexperienced,” meowed Mothstar. “He has lots of potential,” Browngorse reminded her. Cloverpaw listened to the conversation outside of the den. He was finally becoming a warrior! Before Pinepaw, who was older than him! Mothstar sighed. “Alas, I am dying. In return for Featherclan helping rebuild my clan, I will make one of their former members a warrior.” “Oh thank you Mothstar! It will mean so much to his parents!” exclaimed Browngorse. Mothstar purred. “Yes. Mossleap will be proud. And his mate too. It’s a shame I don’t know her name.” ~''' '''Hey, that sounds like my luck I get the short end of it Oh I love to be I love to be the underdog, Hey! “Let all cats gather around the Meadowrock for a clan meeting!” trilled Mothstar. Once all cats were gathered, they started talking amongst themselves. “Silence!” barked Browngorse. “A warrior ceremony is about to take place!” Pinepaw swaggered forward, but Browngorse shoved him back. “Huh?” Pinepaw meowed. “Cloverpaw, come forward!” Cloverpaw stepped forward. “Onto the Meadowrock, silly,” hissed Browngorse. “Cloverpaw is ready to become a warrior, and I owe it to Featherclan. Cloverstorm, do you promise to uphold the Code, even with your life?” “I do,” whispered Cloverpaw tentatively. “Then by the power of the stars, I give you your warrior name. Cloverpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Cloverstorm.” Nobody cheered, except from Browngorse and Mothstar. But somewhere else, things were different. Hey, that sounds like my luck I get the short end of it Oh I love to be I love to be the underdog, Hey! “Cloverstorm! Cloverstorm! Cloverstorm!” chanted the cats of Featherclan. Mossleap and Birdnose cheered the loudest. “May he prosper in his new clan!” cheered Dapplestar. The stars shone brightly in his pelt. Mossleap and Birdnose twined their tails around. “Are you glad that we came to the clans?” “Gladder than I’ve ever been,” purred Birdnose. She paused. “Now that he’s a warrior, what do you want him to do now?” Mossleap thought hard for a moment. Then he decided. “I want him to avenge my death.”